For Everything A Reason
by soulful dreamer
Summary: The Beauchamp family has experienced great loss. Joanna lost a sister & son. Ingrid & Freya, a brother & aunt. Dash swapped his soul with Killian's to escape facing murder charges. Wendy sacrificed her last life & is in the underworld. Freddie is dead. Who wrote "Death to Witches" on the floor at Fair Haven? What happened to Ingrid's baby? Too many questions were left unanswered.
1. Ingrid Beauchamp

Two blue lines. That's all it took to change Ingrid's world.

–

Tucking the jacket more tightly around her, Ingrid bowed her head against the rain as she walked up the front steps of her mother's house. Even as her eyes caught sight of the front door she used to open every day, it felt different. Everything felt different. She was a stranger in her own life. That's why she had to do it. It was time to move on. Time to do something... _else._ She smoothed down her coat, feeling the edge of the envelope tucked neatly inside. It wasn't going to be easy to say goodbye, but she knew this was what she had to do.

Stifled voices filled the Beauchamp house as she pushed open the door. She'd been surprised to see so many faces at the funeral. Considering Freddie had only been around for a matter of months, she didn't expect many people to care that he'd died. It goes to show how little she expected from those who lived in East End. The guests were scattered about the house. In the living room with Joanna, the kitchen with Freya, and standing about the hallways looking at pictures. They would catch sight of Ingrid and give glances full of sympathy. She didn't think she could stand it. Not with what she was about to do.

Ingrid took the stairs slowly, pulling the letter from the pocket of her jacket as she hit the landing. It was hard to think she may never return. Who knew where life was getting ready to take her? She turned right at the landing, passing the closed door to her old bedroom. Ingrid paused, wondering if it looked the same as it had a few months ago, before she moved out. Her hand rested on the doorknob. Had it been this easy for Freya in past lives to go off on her own? Ingrid was the one who usually stayed nearby. She never wandered far, in fear that Joanna may need her.

The closest she even got to that was the life she met Archibald Browning, ancestor of Killian and Dash Gardner.

She pressed her palm flat against her belly, resolving to do this. If she walked into that room, there was a chance whatever lay behind the door would keep her here. She had to do this, regardless of the consequences. Someone touched her shoulder. Ingrid whirled around, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the figure standing there.

"Gosh, Killian," Ingrid breathed out. "I didn't even hear you." His eyes were wide and curious as he looked at her.

"What are you up to, Ingrid?" His tone was a little more accusatory than she expected of Killian. She plastered a false smile on her face.

"Just trying to...digest everything." She glanced about the barren hallway, wondering what Freya's boyfriend was doing up here himself. "I was going to see if Mom was in her room-"

"She's downstairs," Killian finished. He stared at her for a moment, before his eyes faltered. "I'm sorry. I think we're just all on edge-" He cut himself off. "That message on the floor of Fair Haven has us all a little worried."

Ingrid nodded, understanding his fear. "Yeah, 'Death to Witches'. Not exactly subtle." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Why did she feel so uncomfortable around him? Killian had always given her a sense of peace, from the moment she'd met him. She gave an uneasy smile and glanced around the landing, wondering herself what he was doing up here. "Why are _you_ up here? Shouldn't you be with Freya?"

There he went again, staring at her. The way he'd looked at her over the last few days unnerved her. He tilted his head to the side very slightly. "I haven't had a chance to extend my sympathies. I wanted to make sure that you knew... if you need anything, I'm here." Ingrid blinked, trying to shake that odd feeling.

"Thanks, Killian," she remarked. "If you'll excuse me." She wouldn't be able to make it to her mother's room with him watching. She moved to walk past him, back toward the stairs, but felt his hand grip her wrist.

"What's the envelope you're holding?"

"Envelope?" She questioned, her voice an octave higher than normal. She stepped back from him and he released her wrist. "Oh. This? It's just a letter."

Killian narrowed his eyes at her. "Why would you need to write a letter to Joanna?" Then, like the sunrise, her departure dawned on him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just...leaving," Ingrid said, averting her gaze. The last thing she needed right now was a lecture from someone who, to her knowledge, tended to run away from his own obligations. "With everything else going on, I knew she wouldn't take the news well. So I wrote her a letter, to make sure she knew it wasn't her."

"Have you been to see Dash?"

"Dash? Why would I go see Dash?" Ingrid asked, too defensively.

"I'm sorry, I thought the two of you were close," he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, too close apparently." She lowered her gaze, finding a wave of guilt roil through her gut at the thought of the older Gardiner brother. It started out with her just wanting to help him. She understood what it was like to have weird things happen. Things you didn't understand. Sure, he killed a man, but it was in her defense. He was scared and confused and Ingrid saw a lot of herself in him. She understood the madness within. He thought he was going crazy and all she wanted to do was help. She didn't expect for things to go as far as they did.

Did she love Dash? Ingrid didn't know. She'd only been in love once. With Adam before he died. Even then, it didn't go as far as she and Dash had gone. And now she was pregnant. By her estimation, it was only six weeks. She had time to make up her mind on what she wanted to do.

"You're pregnant?!" Killian blurted.

Ingrid's eyes grew wide. "What? No!"

"I can read minds, Ingrid," he said, shaking his head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why _would_ I?" Ingrid hadn't even told Freya or her mother. With Freddie and Aunt Wendy both gone, her family had enough drama going on to last a lifetime. Too much had happened. The last thing she needed was to stress her family out more than was necessary. It was crazy to think that things were back to where they started. Just she and Freya and Joanna. But nothing was the same now. She lifted her eyebrows, expecting a response but the look in Killian's eyes confused her. She could tell there was something he wanted to say, but he didn't. Instead, he exhaled.

"You wouldn't," he relented. "But you should tell Dash."

"How the hell would you know that? Did he tell you about that night?" Suddenly, Ingrid felt cold. It reminded her of when she went back to see Dash and found him with another woman. She felt used. Alone. He didn't want her. He wanted a cheap thrill and that was what he got.

"That's not what you were to him."

Ingrid exhaled sharply. "Okay, first things first, get out of my head." _Now._ She thought emphatically. Killian put his hands up. "Second, Dash is in prison. For murder. I haven't decided _what_ I'm going to do with it. And if I don't keep it, I'd rather he didn't know at all. And if!" She saw Killian open his mouth to interrupt her, but she pointed a finger at him. "And if you don't swear to me right now that you won't say anything to him, I will erase your memory." Her brow knit together as she felt the weight of her secret crashing down on her.

The truth was that Ingrid was terrified. She was terrified of making the wrong decision. Terrified of becoming a mother. Terrified of having this life linking she and Dash together forever, knowing that he didn't care about her like she wanted him to. Terrified of disappointing her family because of her feelings for Dash, who used his powers for evil more than once. Terrified of allowing herself to care for him, regardless of the way he'd treated her.

"I promise," Killian said. His eyes softened; hers filled with tears. She leaned against the rail of the stairs, feeling lightheaded. "Are you okay?" She shook her head as she looked up at him.

"I don't think I'll ever be okay again," she admitted.

Then she felt warm arms wrap around her shoulders and pull her close. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Ingrid didn't feel so alone.

–

While the gathering was winding down, the storm outside continued raging. Only a handful of guests remained, and they were off in the living room with Joanna. Ingrid stood at the sink absentmindedly washing dishes. "Ingrid, what are you still doing here? I thought you were heading home?" Freya's voice snapped her from her thoughts. She'd been staring blankly out of the window, watching the storm. She looked over her shoulder at her younger sister, offering a half smile.

"I was, but then it started raining worse so I figured I'd stay a little while longer, help out around here," Ingrid admitted, turning back to the sink.

"Hey, we haven't had much chance to talk," Freya reached out and placed a hand on Ingrid's arm. She looked down into bright, blue eyes. "You okay?" She exhaled and grabbed a dishtowel to wipe the water from her hands. Ingrid leaned back against the sink.

"Yeah," she lied, but at least it wasn't an obvious one. "How about you?" She frowned. Freddie was Freya's twin. No, they hadn't known he existed for long, but she couldn't imagine what her sister was feeling right now.

"I don't know, to be honest," Freya admitting, glancing about the kitchen. She leaned against the kitchen table and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm sad, all the time," her sister said quietly. "You'd think since I have Killian back, that wouldn't be the case, but I am." Ingrid heard a long exhale of breath. "Something just feels off about all of this. I thought Killian would help me through losing Freddie and Aunt Wendy, but-" She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe this is just a stage of grief I'm not used to. Nothing feels right."

Ingrid nodded. "I know exactly how you feel," she admitted. "The world seems so different than it was just a week ago."

"That was the last of them," Joanna said, entering the kitchen. Ingrid poured her mother a cup of coffee as Joanna sat down at the table. Ingrid thought of the letter that was still sitting in her jacket pocket. She'd leave it there tonight, before she left. Worst case scenario, she could send it by a spell. It wouldn't feel so right, but she had to do it.

"Mom, what are we gonna do?" Freya asked, sitting next to Joanna. "About Wendy?" Their mother exhaled and took a sip of coffee, smiling sadly.

"I'm not sure what we can do," Joanna admitted. "I've called on Helena, my other sister. She's ignoring me."

"Well, if we go to the underworld, maybe there's a chance we can save both of them. Freddie _and_ Wendy-" Freya sounded so hopeful.

"Then we would have to find something to trade that's worth _two_ lives," Joanna said, shaking her head. "The only thing that would be worth two lives is the King. And he's dead."

Ingrid knew all too well that a balance had to be maintained. After all, she lost Adam because she used a resurrection spell on Wendy. "If we had him, we wouldn't need to barter with Helena," Ingrid said. "Because he could bring them both back to life. Like he did with us." Her gaze met Freya's.

"Well...what about Tarkoff?" Her sister suggested.

"But you guys left him in the 1840s with no way of getting back. He's probably dead by now," Ingrid interjected. "You barely made it out of there alive, Freya."

"But if we could find him?" Freya questioned.

"That might not be a bad idea." Their mother was obviously lost in thought. "I don't know if that would get both of them back, but I don't think it'd be completely useless."

Ingrid looked between the two of them, wondering just why they thought Tarkoff might be a bargaining chip. "Helena had a thing for that weasel." She snorted in response to her mother's revelation. "He didn't give her a chance. He was obsessed with me and Victor. Sometimes I thought it was more because of Victor." Joanna shrugged and straightened up, stretching her back. "I don't know." Killian entered the kitchen.

"Looks like the storm has let up, I'll head home before it gets bad again," Ingrid remarked, immediately turning her attention to her mother and sister. She felt the lump form in her throat and instant hesitation surged through her. She could feel Killian's gaze on her the entire time as she crossed to her mother and gave her a hug.

She turned to Freya, wishing there was more time. Wishing she didn't have to say goodbye. In this life, she and Freya had been closer than she imagined they ever could be. Perhaps their non-magical upbringing allowed them the time to form the bond they'd lacked in previous lives. She would miss her mother, of course, but it was different with her sister. Her best friend in the entire world. The only other person who saw her for who she really was, with and without magic. "I love you," she whispered into her sister's dark hair.

Ingrid would miss Freya the most.


	2. Freya Beauchamp

It was getting late. Freya felt the sense of foreboding looming above her head as she and her mother did the last few dishes in the sink. "You two should probably get going," Joanna said, wiping her hands on a clean dishtowel. The younger Beauchamp daughter lifted her chin toward her mother. Joanna motioned toward the doorway that showed Killian sitting in the living room. "I'm sure the two of you could use some alone time."

"Are you sure? I mean, this place gets awfully quiet when no one's home—" The words were rushing from between her lips. "If you wanted me to stay longer, I totally can. I mean, Killian would understand. After losing Dad, and Freddie and Wendy. He—"

Joanna placed a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Freya," She offered a sad smile. "I'll be okay." She opened her mouth to argue, but her mother cut her off. "Go. You've been waiting months to be with Killian. Don't let me get in the way of that."

Freya opened her mouth to argue, but no words came out. Her mother was right. She had been pining over Killian since the first day she'd met him. And now, now that they were finally able to be together, she was pushing it off. "God, he must think I'm horrible," she whispered, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Oh, I doubt that," Joanna said, brushing Freya's dark hair over her shoulder. "Go. Be with your soul mate." She offered her daughter a smile. Freya rested a hand on her mother's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"If you need anything, you'll call, right?" Her mother nodded in answer to her question. A smile flashed across her face. She hugged Joanna, then walked in Killian's direction. "Hey. Ready?" He looked up at her, a smile on his own face.

Killian stood from the couch, reaching out to take her hand. "Let's go home."

–

Freya had been unable to get Killian truly alone in the week since everything started happening. It felt like a sea of one thing after another, after another. The first was the call from Dash. After they left the prison, intentions of going home alone together in hand, Joanna called with the bad news about Wendy. Then the police showed up at the house about Freddie. One thing after another. As they parked outside of Killian's place, she glanced over at him, reaching for his hand.

He seemed quiet, distant. "Everything okay?" Freya prompted. He blinked a couple of times before turning to look at her.

Killian's dark eyes settled on Freya. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and offered a forced smile. "Of course." He brought her hand to his lips.

Of course everything was okay. She was just being overly sensitive. Killian had been great. He'd been by Freya's side nearly every moment of the last week. He was probably just tired. She gave a smile and the two of them set off from the car into the small house Killian had been living in with Eva. Much as she tried not to, she thought of the woman often. She wasn't bitter or angered by the woman. No, she felt an all-encroaching sadness for her. To have to be a sort of leech in order to continue life. Then again, eternal youth was a burden all its own.

"I'm going to take a hot bath," Freya remarked, eyeing Killian lasciviously. "Care to join me?"

A wide grin broke out across his face. Freya took that as his answer as they climbed from the car. Once inside, Killian made his way toward the bathroom and started running the hot water. Freya was on his heels, running her hands down his back and around to his torso, hugging him from behind. He stiffened, but only for a brief moment. If her sense hadn't been running on high, she'd have probably missed it. His body went pliant as he turned, wrapping her in his arms. He leaned down, kissing her swiftly on the mouth, holding her against him for a long time.

When he pulled back, something akin to confusion flickered across his features. But then, he was Killian again, smiling down at her. "You go ahead, I'll get some wine," he remarked, pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

Since when did Killian care about wining and dining? It didn't seem like him, but Freya kept her opinions to herself as he left the bathroom, pulling the door closed as he did so. She undressed and slid down in the water, stifling a moan of pleasure as the hot water ran over her skin. Her entire body felt so tense' it was nice to let go for once.

Freya had rather hoped Killian would be quick. She'd been looking forward to losing herself in him, to forgetting her pain if only for a moment.

Thinking about her father, about Freddie, Wendy…it hurt. Something, that sixth sense, told her that she wasn't yet done losing people yet.

But as she soaked in the hot water, Freya knew that as long as she had Killian by her side, she would be okay.

Her eyes fluttered closed. She spent a few minutes listening for the sounds of him in the house, but only silence greeted her. When he said he was going to get some wine, did that mean he was literally _going somewhere_ to get wine?

An hour passed. The water grew cold, as did Freya's expectations for the evening. If Killian was coming, he'd have been back by now. She climbed from the water, wrapping up in a towel. As she pushed open the door from the bathroom, she found him fast asleep. She frowned, partially because she felt guilty for being perturbed, and the other part because she knew how exhausted he was. He'd been waiting on her, her mother, hand and foot for a week. Maybe she was just being too hard on him. He deserved rest just as much as the rest.

So instead of getting upset or angry, Freya climbed into bed, and fell asleep herself, dreams of a reunited family once again calming her spirit.

–

She woke up to full darkness, with the exception of her cell phone ringing on the bathroom counter. Freya stumbled from the bed, grumbling beneath her breath. It was probably the bar. They'd already asked her when she was returning to work. She grabbed her phone, not looking at the ID. "Hello?"

"Freya—" It was Joanna. "—Freya, something's happened to Ingrid!"

That shook the sleep from her mind. "What?!" She exclaimed, walking back toward the bedroom. Killian stirred from his sleep, wiping at his eyes as he sat up looking at Freya. "Mom, take a deep breath." She could hear her mother's hysteria on the other end of the phone. It was rare that Joanna lost herself. Even in the face of the losses of the last week, none of them had caused her mother sheer panic. "What's happened?"

"She left a letter on my nightstand. Said that she was sorry, but she was leaving East End and she didn't know if she'd be back." Freya felt her blood run cold at her mother's words. No. _No_. Ingrid wouldn't bail on them in the middle of a crisis. That wasn't like her older sister at all. Her mother was right, _something_ had to have happened to her. Ingrid was her sister, her best friend and confidant. She couldn't imagine her _not_ being there. That's who Ingrid had been, through all of their lives. She was the loyal one, who stayed with Joanna, who kept the family tied together.

Something had happened. Something that either drove her to this decision, or the letter was a fake.

"I'll be right over."

Killian's hand rested on her elbow. She turned to him, fighting back the tears threatening at her eyes. She balled her hands into fists at her side. "What's going on Freya?"

"It's Ingrid," his eyes widened.

"What? Is she okay?" He was on his feet now. Freya didn't realize how much he cared.

"No," she shook her head, rushing around the room to find something to wear. "Mom found a letter, saying Ingrid was leaving and didn't know if she'd be back. Killian grabbed for his shoes. "You don't have to come. Get some sleep." He stopped, looking up at Freya with something that resembled worry in his eyes. "I'm just going to Mom's. Until we can sort this out." He frowned.

"I can't just stay here when something's going on with your si—family," Killian said, standing and putting his hands on her shoulders. "How about this? I'll go see Dash. Maybe she went to see him and told him something more." She eyed him curiously, but said nothing. "I'll drop you by your mom's." He offered a kind smile. "We'll figure this out. I won't let anything else happen to your family. You've been through so much already."

Freya was grateful for his enthusiasm and willingness to help, but she couldn't shake that feeling. Something was off with him. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a quick kiss. As he pulled back, the features of his face shifted, his eyes changed to a dark blue, the sharp edges of his jaw softened. For the briefest of moments, it was as though she was looking at Dash. She blinked, and his face was gone, replaced by the one of her soulmate.

"You okay?"

Her brow furrowed. "Yeah." She wasn't sure if she was convincing him, but she definitely knew she wasn't convincing herself. She turned then, sliding through the contacts of her cell phone as she headed for the door, Killian in tow. She dialed Ingrid and waited as it rang once, twice, three times.

 _"_ _Hey, it's Ingrid. You know what to do." BEEP._

As she climbed into the car, Freya let out a sharp breath. "Ingrid. Call me. Now." She hung up, trying to bite back the scream building in her throat. Something had to have happened. Ingrid wouldn't just walk away like that. She _couldn't._ Could she?

Silence filled the car as the pair sped through town. She climbed from the passenger seat at her mother's house, hanging back for just a moment. "Be careful around Dash," she said to Killian, her expression serious. "I don't trust him." Something passed across his features, but it happened so quickly that she couldn't pin point it. "I'll call you if we find out anything." He nodded, murmured a goodbye, and then pulled out of the driveway.

The last thing Freya needed right now was for something to be happening with Killian. Maybe it was just the stress she'd been under.

She glanced down the darkened street, the hair on the back of her neck rising. Someone, some _thing_ was watching her. She was sure of it. So she darted up the stairs to the house and pushed open the door. She found her mother quickly, sitting at the kitchen table, the letter open before her. "Have you heard from her?" Joanna looked up, her eyes rimmed in red, and shook her head.

How did we get to this point? How did we lose Dad, Freddie, and Wendy only for Ingrid to be lost as well? Why was my family falling apart?

Freya grabbed the letter from the table, turning her back on her mother to read it.

 _Mom—_

 _I'm so sorry. I know the timing right now sucks,_ _ **really**_ _sucks. But when would the timing ever be right to say goodbye?_

 _I've spent my entire life in this little town, never changing, never living, never really growing. It's time for me to spread my wings and learn to fly. I need to find my own way to grieve, not just for Wendy, or Dad, or Freddie, but there are others—Adam, Hudson, Kyle Hutton—that I need to make reparations for._

 _I don't know_ _when_ _if I'll return to East End. I have a lot to figure out, and I need to do this alone. Send my love to Freya, and please don't think either of you are the reason I left. I'm doing this for me, and me alone._

 _Love,  
Ingrid Beauchamp_

She felt her heart breaking in her chest with each word. Slowly, Freya lowered herself into the chair beside her mother's, reading over the letter a second, a third time. Even though coming in, she'd thought someone forced this on her sister, but reading the words… It sounded more like Ingrid than any stranger could compose.

"Ingrid has never left like this. Even in her life, where she loved Archibald, she kept close to me. I-I don't understand." Freya wrapped an arm around her mother's shoulders, trying to be her strength.

"We can use a locator spell. We can find her and go after her," she said in a gentle voice.

"I already tried!" Tears streamed down her mother's face. "She's done something to block it."

What could Freya say or do to comfort her mother? Why in the world would Ingrid do this? Something drove her to make a decision like this. Something happened to her. Something changed when they were brought back to life. She tried to think back over the last several months, over all that had happened where Ingrid was involved.

She felt her anger flare up. Dash. She'd mentioned the man Dash killed as someone she needed to atone for. The blood wasn't on her hands; it was on his. Why would she feel the need to atone for something she didn't do?

Freya tried Ingrid's cell once more. This time, it went straight to voicemail. She groaned to herself, then pressed Killian's name on her phone list. "Hey," he answered. She felt some of the weight on her shoulders lessen.

"Hey, I think Ingrid really left on her own," she said, "It has to do with Dash."

"How do you know this?"

"Something she said in the letter. I just have a bad…feeling. Don't go to see him, please." She heard him let out a sigh. "Not without me. We'd be stronger together if he tries to pull something."

"Freya…"

"I'm serious. He did something to my sister—"

"He didn't do anything to your sister. Other than protect her from Kyle Hutton." Freya was taken aback by the intensity in his words, the name of the man written in Ingrid's letter. "He cared for her. Wanted to be a different man for her."

Something was off. Killian was too intent, too sure of what he was saying. He didn't sound like himself. He hadn't been acting like himself. "Killian, where are you?"

"I'm going to find Ingrid." Then the line went dead.


End file.
